


Of Swans and Pirates and Broken Sinks

by thegirlinthebandtshirt



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV), The Dust Storm
Genre: Almost smut, Captain Swan - Freeform, F/M, Family Dinner, Feels, Humor, Underworld
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-05
Updated: 2017-01-05
Packaged: 2018-09-14 21:58:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9204974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegirlinthebandtshirt/pseuds/thegirlinthebandtshirt
Summary: Emma and Killian slip away from a family dinner at Granny's.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the bathroom scene in "The Dust Storm". I saw a post on tumblr (which I can no longer find to give it credit) and just had to write it. I hope you all enjoy! Beta'd by my best friend, Olesya.  
> -Jordy

Killian let Emma rope him into joining her and her large family for dinner at Granny’s. He usually avoids joining Emma at Granny’s, since many of the residents of Storybrooke are still skeptical of his heroism. However, he ended up caving when Emma pulled the puppy dog face with her big green eyes and little kisses to his jaw. She was a bloody vixen.  


So here he sits, at a rather large booth. He is lucky to have an end seat, his back leaning on Emma’s shoulder next to him as his feet rest in the open space next to the table. He made constant efforts to impress Emma’s family, even rejecting Emma’s offer to trade his hot chocolate for some rum. He knows he shouldn’t feel awkward; Emma’s parents have already accepted him, as did her boy. Still, however, he stares at the onion rings on Emma’s plate and keeps his mouth shut, not wanting to say the wrong thing.  


The conversation turns to the Underworld and Killian clenches his jaw. Emma grabs his hand under the table and rubs her thumb over his knuckles. They both hate the topic, the memories of almost losing each other still fresh and haunting. He still gets nightmares about Hades. He swallows the lump in his throat and focuses on Emma’s hand in his as a reminder that she is there with him and that the Underworld is in the past. He can’t make out the conversation over the blood pounding in his ears, but he hears Emma’s voice probably trying to change the topic of conversation. He takes some deep breaths and his ears clear up; Emma is saying his name repeatedly,  


“Killian?” Emma squeezes his hand. “Killian?” She repeats his name, a little louder each time, “Killian, are you alright?” He jerks his head to face her and he nods, sending her a small smile. “Are you sure?” Sometimes he forgets she always knows when he’s lying.  


“Aye,” he turns to the table and notices everyone staring at them. He feels his cheeks get hot, bringing a light pink from his cheeks to the tips of his ears. “I apologize. I got a bit,” he pauses as he searches for the correct word, “distracted.” He flashes the table one of his charming smiles and lets go of Emma’s hand so he can down some hot chocolate. Damn, his rum would be really nice right about now. The large gathering is still silent when he puts his mug down. He excuses himself to go to the restroom, strutting to it as quickly as he can manage without running. He presses his back against the bathroom door, pulling his flask of rum from his jacket pocket and taking a long, much needed swig. He breathes out, head banging backward into the door. He can’t handle much more of this family dinner. He curses under his breath as he tries to remember what happened out there; Captain Hook was taken down by the mere mention of the Underworld. He knows the amount of time he’s been away from the table is suspicious, but he can’t seem to go back to rejoin them. He takes another drink from his flask and almost spits it out as the door opens behind him, throwing his body forward. He turns around to see a very concerned Emma biting her lip with a soft facial expression.  


“I’m really sorry about what happened back there. I guess I should’ve warned them not to bring that up.” She takes a couple steps forward to lessen the distance between them. “Are you okay?”  


“Aye, love. I’m a survivor.”  


“That’s not what I meant.”  


“I know.” He wants to break the silence that falls over them, but he doesn’t know what to say.  


“Can I have some of that?” She gestures to his flask in his hand. He nods and holds it out for her. She takes a long drink, licking the remains off her lips. His eyes focus on her pink tongue poking out to drag over her lips. He doesn’t even notice she offers the flask back to him until the distance between them is closed and her hand nudges his. He tucks the flask back in his jacket pocket and licks his lips as Emma’s hand comes up to stroke his scar.  


“Emma,” he warns, knowing that he won’t be able to control himself if she went much further. She shushes him as her other hand snakes to the back of his neck to tangle in the hair at the nape of his neck. She uses that hand to pull his head down, attaching her lips to his as the fingers on his scar move to his jawline. He tries to pull away before this goes too far, but her hand doesn’t let up and she keeps their faces together. She deepens the kiss, tilting her head further to the right, nose smushed against his cheek. He groans her name against her lips and she smiles into his, fairly sure he won’t pull away now. His jacket is shed and her hands move to untuck his buttoned shirt from his black jeans. She uses one hand to unbutton his shirt from the bottom up as her other hand grazes the newly exposed skin. She feels his abs jump as her fingers rake through the coarse hair on his stomach and up to the softer hair dusting over his chest. He keeps his forehead pressed against hers, but glances to the door, scared one of Emma’s family members might come back here to check on them.  


“I told them I would talk to you, make sure you’re okay, then walk you home. We have some time.” His concerns aren’t eased; what if someone decided to use the restroom and walked in to find them? What if Dave needed to use the restroom and opened the door to find his daughter in an extremely compromising position with Captain Hook? Emma sighs and waves her hand in the general direction of the door. There is a ripple of light, “there. Now it’s locked with magic. No one can come in.” He breathes out a sigh of relief and gets back to the previous task. He kisses her rather desperately as he slides his hand under her blouse, keeping his hook pressed against her back. She works open the buttons and zippers of both their jeans and he wraps his arms around her hips, lifting her up so she could sit on the sink. He leaves a trail of kisses on her neck. She makes a move to rid herself of her underwear when she’s suddenly no longer sitting on the sink. He catches her with impressive reflexes, but the sink crashes to the ground and water begins spurting all over both of them. She screeches and both of them start laughing. He drops to his knees and maneuvers his hand and hook all over the broken sink and the area it exposed trying to find a way to stop the water. “Killian! Shut it off!”  


“I’m trying! I can’t find the knob!”  


“You broke it!” She covers her mouth but she’s still laughing.  


“Whose ass was on it?” he momentarily turns to look at her as they both continue laughing. “You could at least give me a hand!” She rolls her eyes at the hand joke as she joins him on the floor as they both look for any way to turn off the water. He turns to her, “use your magic!” She hovers her hand over the various pipes and knobs until the water switches off. He runs his hand through his hair, slicking it back deliciously. She stands up and offers her hand to him. She pulls him up with her and helps him button his completely soaked shirt. They get their jeans back up and decide they look decent enough, aside from being drenched. Emma takes the magic off the door. Her hair falls in stringy groups and sections and she crosses her arms over her chest, instantly regretting wearing a light-colored blouse; it was now one-hundred percent see-through.  


“We have to go out there,” she complains, groaning.  


“Do you think they’ve gone?”  


“No.” Killian looks at Emma in silent question. She links her arm with his and nods. He nods in reply and opens the door. They both take deep breaths as they walk back into Granny’s. They keep their heads down, not looking at anyone, especially Emma’s family. They leave the bathroom together and soaked; they can only imagine how they look. The pink blush returns to Killian’s face, starting at his chest and creeping up his neck into his cheeks, and then his ears. Emma starts laughing again, trying and failing to stifle her laughter. They’re almost to the door when they look at each other, smirks gracing both of their faces. They can feel everyone’s eyes on them, but they keep their arms linked and they continue walking until they are just outside the door. When they get to their favorite table outside, Emma looks back to see Granny glaring at them from the window. Emma giggles again, releasing Killian’s arm to take his hand, and she runs for it, dragging her pirate behind her.  


Four towels, half an hour of the hair dryer each, and one “let’s finish what we started” later, Emma and Killian sit in pajamas on the couch with "The Princess Bride" on Netflix. Emma tries to console her father, who sent the two of them no less than twenty text messages asking “what the hell happened,” and Killian apologizes for the broken sink to Granny on behalf of them both; Emma promises to gift her a new one tomorrow using her magic. Emma feels the need to tell Henry that the situation is definitely not what it looked like. He decides he doesn’t want to know, and he decides to spend a couple nights at Regina’s so Emma and Killian can have some time alone. Emma feels awful that she probably traumatized her son, but she’s thankful that he was perceptive enough to let her be alone with Killian.  


“Thank you, Swan,” Emma shifts in his arms so she can look up at him while still letting his fingers rub patterns up and down her arm.  


“For what?”  


“For forcing me to attend your dinner,” she rolls her eyes and grins.  


“It was a disaster,” she can’t believe he’s thankful to have been a part of whatever the hell that was; he was tortured by the conversation and then they publicly made fools of themselves.  


“Ah, but you’re happy,” her laughter has echoed through his head since the incident. He loves seeing her smile and laugh so carelessly. He is all the more glad when he is the reason for those genuine smiles or giggles.  


“Killian-” his fingers stop their movement on her arm.  


“Shh, Swan. I mean it.” He leans down and presses a chaste kiss to her lips, bringing another smile from her.  


“Well we can’t go back to Granny’s until this dies down.”  


“Now, now. Not going would be admitting guilt and defeat.”  


“But we are guilty. I’m the sheriff; I should have thrown both our asses in jail.”  


“Speaking of your ass-”  


“Shut up, Killian.”

Killian insists that they go to Granny’s for lunch the following day. Emma conjures up a new sink for the diner. Emma gets her regular grilled cheese and onion rings, and Killian talks her out of buying one of everything to make up for the sink. Killian struts around confidently, while Emma chooses to bury her face in Killian’s neck or shoulder. Emma pretends not to notice the four fries that not only snuck into her pile of onion rings, but seemed to replace them, and she doesn’t say anything when her hot cocoa comes without cinnamon. He makes her stay with him at a table the entire afternoon, only relenting to Emma’s desire to leave when she tells him she needs to use the restroom; even he’s not cocky enough to walk back there any time soon, or possibly ever again.


End file.
